


elevate

by favoriteghost



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Female Protagonist, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favoriteghost/pseuds/favoriteghost
Summary: All the fairy tales you grew up with said witches are destined to fall at the hero's hands. You hope with all your might there can be one exception.
Relationships: Link (Legend of Zelda) & Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	elevate

At eight years old, you got into a fight. Your lip stung as your mother dabbed a wet cloth upon it. Her brow was knit together, worried, and her expression displeased.

“You know just as well to leave those boys be,” she said.

“They were being mean!” you said, but there was instant regret as your fervent words caused you lip to bleed again. Your instant wince of pain seemed enough punishment to your mother, and she handed the rag to you to finish cleanup.

“What of it? How were they mean?” She fixed both hands on her hips.

_Witch! Witch! You’ve cursed your family!_

Their words haunted you.

“They called me a witch.”

Your mother took a deep breath, her eyes closed. Only after releasing it did she fix her stare upon you once more.

“Witches are only fables.” She twisted around, ready to head back to finishing supper. “You’d do well to remember that.”

* * *

At ten years old, you learned. Your fingers tingled with magic, the plants you tended leaning towards you, yearning for the energy so close, but so far from their grasp.

‘ _Witches are real_ ,’ you thought, excited. You tapped one of the plants, and watched it grow right before your eyes. A surge of joy swelled within your heart, and the possibilities seemed endless.

Your mother hid her horror at the news well, you would realize later. But she had your younger brother to care for, someone with no sense of secrets, and quietly told you that such magic was something to keep within your heart.

* * *

At fifteen, something in you snapped. First it was a small pebble that hit your head, and if it hadn’t been for the eruption of laughter you might have brushed it off as a large insect flying into you.

“C’mon, do it!” A voice somewhere to your right urged. The foliage rustled as you turned to face the forest, and you were met with a weighty rock to the forehead. It sent you tumbling to the ground, your basket of plants spilling all around you. More laughter came from the forest, but your head was aching and when you brought your hand down from touching the sore spot, blood decorated your fingertips.

The rock lay before you, nearly the size of your fist. In the bushes, you could hear the boys jeering with one another, goading each other on to hurl more things at you. What had you done to them? Why would they hurt you like this? You fingers clenched around a bundle of herbs, and you felt anger.

“How dare you!” you shouted, reaching forward for the rock to hurl it back into the trees. “You horrible brats!”

“Witch!” one of the boys jeered, safely hidden in the plant life. “You’ll curse the village like you did your family!”

You launched the rock with all your might into the bushes, and the boys hiding within yelped. A plume of smoke rose from where you presumed the rock had landed, and you watched with something closer to satisfaction than fear as flames began to rise out of the bush.

One of the boys finally emerged from the trees, yelling. “She’s trying to kill us!”

“Help! Fire!” another one cried.

They all emerged safely. Nothing besides the bush had burnt, and the only damage to the boys had been their pride. The elders in the village did not see it that way. The boys, with tear-streaked faces and their stories embellished, stood against you, someone who had gotten into squabbles from a young age.

Your mother looked tired, far older than she was. The burden of being her daughter was a heavy weight to bear, you knew. It took two days for the elders to decide what to do with you.

“They were considering this for when you hit adulthood,” your mother said. Under the delicate light of morning, she seemed fragile. “Said they would send you away next year, banish you.”

“And you knew?” There was no hiding the hurt in your voice.

She sighed, running a hand down her face. “Aye, I did.”

There was an ache somewhere deep in you. It felt like something had cracked in your very soul.

“I’m sorry,” you said, finally, trying not to cry. “For not being the daughter you wanted.”

She was the only one to see you off. Your younger brother was still asleep in bed, unaware of your fate. You wished you could tell him goodbye.

The pack on your back felt heavier than it was. It was a long journey to the next settlement, and you wondered if one of the horde would do you in before you reached it. Could you even make it out in the lands? How would you survive?

Every step forward made you feel more uncertain. When you reached the village outskirts, you turned to look back one more time. None of the children had ever treated you kindly there, and many adults had shunned you all your life. Still, you always had a warm fire and meal waiting beneath the roof of your family home, and it hurt to leave the familiarity behind.

‘ _Maybe mother will be happy now_ ,’ you thought. She could live her normal life with a normal child. The thought did little to stop the yawning hurt inside you, and you tried to ignore the fact you were crying.

**Author's Note:**

> do I fully know where this is going? no. we're on a journey together, reader.
> 
> I have picked up and dropped a lot of writing the last several months since completing my last fic, and this is the only one that's really stuck with me.


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